


The taste that your lips allow

by Samcgrath



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drunk Louis, I think I'm a lot funnier than I really am, M/M, Pining, Stupid Boys, and there's Angst, bad jokes and puns, but it works out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1877796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samcgrath/pseuds/Samcgrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis wakes up to indie music playing somewhere and sunlight on his face, in Zayn's bed after he jumped in through his window while drunk last night. Except Zayn would never open his blinds and would probably cut his left arm before listening to hipster music. </p><p>Or the 'I accidentally broke into your house/apartment because my friend lives next door and I was in the area, drunk, and I thought I was climbing through the right window and falling asleep on the right bed (and I did wonder when my friend started leaving his curtains open but I didn’t question it) so now I’m hung-over and shirtless in your bed so um hi how ya doin AU'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And with no place to hide, I looked in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Larryflippedthebird (HeichouMFBadass)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeichouMFBadass/gifts).



> This prompt was shared with me by Jo and it was posted on tumblr by user tickatocka. Hopefully, it's alright. 
> 
> PS: Title is from Give me Love by Ed Sheeran.
> 
>  
> 
> UPDATE: This is what Louis woke up to basically: http://31.media.tumblr.com/313f4be8cd132232c65f5e943304c706/tumblr_mr8viisxdw1s4u3x6o1_500.gif

Some weird indie music is playing somewhere, quite persistently. He tries to tune it out but apparently his amazing mind-power doesn’t work on music. Huh.

 

Huffing, he rolls around and tries pulling the pillow to cover his ears, maybe that will stop the man asking him why Louis only calls him when he’s high. What the hell kind of song is that, even?

 

He is trying so hard to block out the campy music and the sunlight almost blinding him even as his eyes are closed. His head is hurting too, quite a rhythmic throbbing – almost in tune with the music and goddamnit, he is so done with all this shit.

 

Taking a deep breath, ignoring the horrible morning breath with a touch of last night’s alcohol, he flutters his eyes open willing them to adjust to the light. What he’s expecting is Zayn snoring next to him, completely unfazed by anything around him.

 

What he finds is the greenest pair of eyes he’s ever seen staring at him. And seeing as how he’s been awake 0.9 seconds and someone’s staring at him, he startles quite bad and with an alarmed yelp jumps back awkwardly and lands in a mess of sheets and his pillow hugged to his chest in case he needs to defend himself against anyone. Pillows are great armors, shut up.

 

When he’s finally caught his breath, he stops wiggling around on the bed and looks back into the intruding eyes. Attached to the green eyes is a face, of course. Sinful lips and an unruly mop of hair atop a very, very aesthetically pleasing face that is still turned toward him. Louis is mildly confused, a bit scared and more than a bit aroused. The stranger is still looking at him with wide eyes but hasn’t moved at all. Louis clears his throat and finally seems to have found his voice,

 

“Who’re you?”

 

The man – boy – manboy is still staring at him, his eyebrows come closer in a frown and under the sunlight rudely streaming in through the windows Louis can see his pale skin creasing on his forehead. He resembles a confused kitten, Louis thinks.

 

And then he speaks, in the deepest voice Louis has ever heard. _Not a kitten anymore._

“Who are you?”

 

So, it may have taken Louis a second too long to comprehend that question. And it may be because he was busy staring at the man’s face. But no one can prove anything.

 

“Where is Zayn?”

 

The boy’s face scrunches up in a frown again but he straightens his brow soon enough.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Those piercing eyes don’t falter at all, hardly even blinking and all Louis can do is stare back. God, what even is that colour? Is this colour even legal? Do people have eyes like this? Colour of some exotic forest somewhere in Australia? _What._

 

“Oh.”

 

That is a very dumb thing to say, he knows. But his higher-order thinking is on a hold right now. It’s too early in the morning for a conversation, anyway. Then the deep, deep voice rumbles through the distance between him and the boy.

 

“Who is Zayn?”

 

Louis tries to keep his composure; he’s usually a very impatient person but for some reason this stranger has pulled him into a very slow conversation that he doesn’t feel the need to rush either.

 

“Zayn is my best mate.”

 

The boy takes that answer with a blank face. Louis is trying so hard to look away but just, even the little pimples on this boy’s face are too interesting for him to look away.

 

“Okay.”

 

Louis isn’t sure what’s happening, but he’s not very inclined toward moving just yet.

 

“So, where is he?”

 

“I’m not sure.”

 

Right, so this is getting a bit repetitive. As much as he’s enjoying this vivid color of green filtered through the sunlight in glassy eyes staring at him, he needs some answers.

 

“What’re you doing here, then?”

 

That might be a bit rude, but Louis’ never claimed to be a nice person. The boy just blinks at him for a second before opening his mouth to answer and Louis might be lost staring at those full lips.

 

“This is my bed. What’re you doing here?”

 

That throws him. Maybe for the first time since he’s woken up, Louis is a bit worried. Still stuck on the eyes and the lips, but a bit worried.

 

“This is Zayn’s bed. In Zayn’s house.”

 

The boy blinks in response. That’s all he does, blinks.

 

“No, this is my bed. In my house.”

 

What even is this conversation? It feels like they’re reading from a weird script for one of those foreign films they show at film festivals that nobody understands but they end up getting awards anyway.

 

“Who’re you?”

 

“I’m Harry.”

 

Louis stores that away for later use, obviously he will use it. For science.

 

Okay, so he’s in a stranger’s house. Without a shirt on. Now what?

 

“Do you want breakfast? I made pancakes.”

 

Louis loosens his grip a little on the pillow. Anyone who offers pancakes can’t possibly be dangerous, he doesn’t need the pillow as armour anymore.

 

“You made pancakes? When?”

 

The boy – Harry – stays right where he is and with a small tilt to his head, speaks in his deeper than Kurt Cobain voice.

 

“While you were sleeping.”

 

The nonchalant way that Harry answers him makes Louis frown as he processes that answer. When he looks up, Harry is still looking at him.

 

“So, you saw me sleeping in your bed and you got up and made pancakes and then you got back in bed?”

 

Harry keeps his face straight through the question, Louis still catches the little upward tilt of his lips just before he answers.

 

“Yes. You looked very peaceful so I thought I shouldn’t wake you up.”

 

This is just so unreal, Louis doesn’t even have any words to describe what’s happening. Harry is still staring at him expectantly.

 

“So, pancakes?”

 

He should be getting out of here, out of this stranger’s bed and his house and look for Zayn. But he doesn’t want to leave just yet. So he nods his head.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Harry gets up from the bed and rakes his fingers through his unruly hair, but they settle back just as messy. Louis wants to run his fingers through the springy bits, pull on them and twirl them around his fingers but this is a person he doesn’t know at all so he pulls his gaze away and tries to stand up.

 

His headache comes back with a vengeance just as he's pulling his shirt on and he has to support himself with a hand on the bed. The floor is warm under his bare feet when he tries to stand up, and the sheet falls down around his legs.

 

Harry comes around to pick up the sheet from the floor and then he silently walks away toward the door. Louis stands up a bit fuller with a little effort and follows Harry down a narrow hallway. He’s having a bit of trouble walking but for the most part, his feet slide on the hardwood floor as his eyes take in the bright, sunlit flat.

 

The hallway leads into a kitchen and a small lobby with a huge sofa and a small kitchen table. There are two plates already on the table, and Harry points to the table for Louis to take a seat. He pulls a chair out and sits down while Harry goes into the kitchen and brings a container back with pancakes in it.

 

Louis’ absolutely lost right now – doubts there is a manual on how to behave when you wake up in a stranger’s bed you’ve never met before and are offered breakfast – but the pancakes look heavenly and he thinks might as well.

 

He’s halfway through his second syrup-drowned pancake when Harry comes back and places a glass of water and two advil tablets in front of him. He looks up to find Harry sitting down opposite him with a small smile on his face.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Harry’s smile widens and Louis catches a dimple winking at him and god, this boy is perfect.

 

“You’re welcome, uh...”

 

“I’m Louis.”

 

This should be awkward and it is a bit, but not nearly as it should be. Harry leans down with his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he lifts the fork to his lips and Louis can’t help the little chuckle that escapes him at the sight.

 

He hurriedly pops the pills in his mouth to stop the noise but who even eats like that, with their tongue almost touching their chin while they raise the fork up. Harry is not paying him any attention anyway so he swallows the pills and chases the bitter taste with water.

 

“Thanks for the food, these pancakes are great.”

 

Harry pauses a moment to swallow his bite before turning toward him.

 

“You’re welcome, glad you like them.”

 

God, who even talks like that these days. It’s all short sentences and hurried responses, not slow and dragged out words with polite thank you’s and proper grammar. He doesn’t know what else to say though so he turns toward the open window and looks out.

 

The billboard outside is the same one he’d seen from Zayn’s flat two days ago. They’d just recently changed it. And the building across the street looks familiar too. Wait. Hang on.

 

“Oh fuck. I think I jumped in the wrong window.”

 

It feels like his brain is finally clearing up, the haze is slowly lifting and he can think clearly. Harry is looking at him with raised eyebrows.

 

“I was trying to get into my mate’s flat but I must’ve jumped in the wrong window. Sorry about that.”

 

He lowers his head sheepishly because what else can he say, really? It sounds stupid that he broke into someone’s house on accident but well, that’s what happened. And he should get up and leave now.

 

“Do you do that often?”

 

He’s startled by the question, but even more so by Harry’s voice. He’s been talking for quite a while now but Louis’ just now noticing how rough it sounds around the edges. Like, he’s still chasing away the last dredges of sleep and like it may get velvety as the day goes on.

 

Louis almost shudders imagining what Harry would sound like at night, with the heaviness of the day weighing on him. What he’d sound like at night in bed, whispering filthy words in Louis’ ear.

 

No. _Stop._

 

“Huh?”

 

He intelligently asks because Harry asked him something and he doesn’t remember because he’s too busy chastising his brain.

 

“I said do you do it often? Jump in through people’s windows?”

 

He’s ready to lash out but then he catches the little dimple poking through Harry’s well-hidden smile and the mirth in his eyes. How is Louis even this poetic? Where are these words coming from? He used to struggle writing one page analysis of poems and here he is, writing sonnets about this boy he’s just met.

 

“Only when I’m drunk and too far from home to walk.”

 

Harry nods at his answer, shoots him a quick smile and then goes back to getting his tongue out and his mouth wide open. Louis looks away as he feels his face burning.

 

They eat in silence after that and when they finish, Harry carries the dishes into the kitchen as Louis goes to put on his shoes that Harry had at some unknown point placed next to the dining table. His fingers stall as they run over the laces of his Vans but he pushes his feet in and stands up with half laced shoes anyway.

 

His feet start moving toward the door of the flat and Harry follows him wordlessly. Now, it’s awkward.

 

Louis opens the door and steps out. He doesn’t want to leave.

 

He gets out and turns around, Harry is holding the door open but neither of them speaks. Surely, he should say something.

 

“Sorry about intruding. And thanks for everything.”

 

“That’s alright, you’re quite welcome.”

 

Okay, what now?

 

“Well, I’ll see you around, Harry.”

 

“I’m sure. Bye, Louis.”

 

Another moment of silent staring, and then Harry backs away from the door so Louis turns around and starts walking down the corridor. He hears the door shut behind him as he keeps walking with his fists clenched by his side.

 

It isn’t until he has walked to the back door that he realises that Zayn’s flat is in the other direction. He stops with a curse falling out his lips before he can stop it, the old lady passing by glares at him but he couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck right now.

 

He turns around and starts walking with his head bowed, his feet faltering as he passes by Harry’s flat again but he gets to the familiar door finally and knocks as hard as he can. Zayn will probably not even hear him knocking, no matter how hard he tries, the first few times.

 

And sure enough, he’s still perched in front of the door five minutes later still knocking - and praying that Harry doesn’t get out of his flat - when he hears a loud bang and colourful swearing from inside the door. He stops knocking when the sound of approaching footsteps gets louder, the door is yanked open violently and there stands Zayn in all his sleepy glory.

 

His hair is ruffled and leaning to one side, one eye open partially as his hand rubs the other one. His toned body is bare except for a pair of black briefs and even right now, he looks better than Louis could hope to look on his best days. In annoyance, he pushes past Zayn and into the flat.

 

“Lou?”

 

Zayn closes the door and follows him to the sofa. Louis lets his body fall freely into the soft leather, without even trying to sit properly and Zayn just comes and lies down with his feet propped in Louis’ lap.

 

“What’re you doing up so early? I thought you were going out last night.”

 

He pulls Zayn’s ankle closer, and looks up at him with wide eyes only to find Zayn with his eyes closed and his head resting on the arm of the sofa. He looks like he’s falling asleep again.

 

“I did. I got too plastered to walk back so I came over. Jumped in through the window.”

 

Zayn’s eyes fly open and he stares at Louis like he’s finally lost his marbles.

 

“No, you didn’t. You just came in, two seconds ago. I opened the door for--”

 

“I broke into your neighbour’s flat.”

 

Zayn pulls his legs back and sits up to look at Louis with wide eyes. He’s fully awake now, Louis can tell.

 

“You what?”

 

“I thought it was your bedroom window and I jumped in. Didn’t realise it was the wrong flat till I woke up to someone looking at me and then--”

 

“Was it Mrs. Jenkins? Please tell me it was he--”

 

“No, not her. The other side.”

 

“Other side? Oh, you mean--”

 

“Harry. That’s what he told me his name was.”

 

Zayn’s face transforms completely when he hears the name and Louis wants to know why. Also, he doesn’t.

 

“Yeah, he moved in last week.”

 

There’s definitely something that Zayn wants to say but is biting his tongue. Before he can ask, Zayn puts his legs in Louis’ lap again and lies down. His arm goes up to cover his face and he settles into the sofa comfortably, Louis almost feels bad for waking him up so early.

 

“What?”

 

Zayn starts a little at his question, then he lifts his arm from his face and looks at Louis questioningly.

 

“What, what?”

 

“You just--you said that with a tone.”

 

“What tone?”

 

“You just did. Like, you’re disappointed or something.”

 

“No, I’m not.”

 

“Yeah, you did.”

 

“What’re you, reading my tones now?”

 

“It was there. Plus, you didn’t tell me you had a fit new neighbour, I thought you loved me.”

 

“This is exactly why.”

 

“‘Cuz you don’t want me to leave you for him?”

 

“‘Cuz, you’d go after him.”

 

“And that’s bad, why?”

 

“It just is.”

 

“Wow, thanks Mum.”

 

“Don’t be an arse, Louis.”

 

“Well, then tell me.”

 

“Tell you what?”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me about Harry earlier?”

 

“He has a reputation, okay?”

 

“What kind of reputation?”

 

“Not the good kind.”

 

“Fuck, Zayn. Just tell me, alright?”

 

“Okay, you asked for it.”

 

Zayn takes a deep breath like he’s preparing for battle and Louis does not like where this is going. His own brain starts working over-time in the few seconds it takes for Zayn to chose his words.

 

_‘Harry could be a psychopath, that could be it. He doesn’t look like one though, he tells himself. What do psychopaths looks like, Louis? Like everyone else, you dumbshit.'_

_'Okay, he could be a ghost. Louis hadn’t touched him at all during their interaction so he could just be a very attractive, indie ghost. Shut up, just shut up Louis.'_

_'Or he could be a part of Secret Service, MI6 or something. He’s too young to be military trained and be working undercover but there's always plastic surgery.’_

Before he can explore any other very probable possibilities, Zayn cuts him off.

 

“Well, let’s just say that he’s had more visitors in the past week than I’ve had in the last year. And they were all of the young, smoking hot persuasion.”

 

“So, he has a lot of friends? Okay?”

 

“No, I mean--look, I’ve only ever met him once. But everyone in the building seems to think that he’s a bit of a…”

 

“Bit of a what?”

 

“A slut.”

 

Louis’ mouth snaps shut at that.

 

He was expecting pirate or criminal but this, this is just. What?

 

“And how do these people know this?”

 

“Lou, I--”

 

“Have they followed him around? Do they have cameras in his house? If he has a lot of visitors, he’s fucking everyone within a ten-foot radius? Did--”

 

“Louis, just--”

 

“--they ask the people that came to his place? Did they get them to fill out a survey?”

 

“--listen to--”

 

“So if he enjoys sex, he’s a slut?”

 

Zayn is sitting opposite him with his face in his hands and his shoulders hunched. Louis wants some answers.

 

“Look, I don’t know, okay? I just heard people talking and so did Liam. He asked me what was up and apparently everyone on his floor thinks so too.”

 

“So what? You have building meetings to discuss who’s getting laid? Is that what--”

 

“Don’t look at me like that, alright? I told you I’ve only ever met him once and Li met him a couple times. He said he was a nice bloke. But we both agreed that it’d be best to not tell you and wait till you met--”

 

“Oh so you and Liam decide who I meet? Wow, this is just--”

 

“Will you listen to me? I don’t--”

 

“--fucking brilliant! So what? You meet weekly to decide who--”

 

“Louis!”

 

His words die on his tongue when Zayn yells at him. He is looking absolutely done as he stares at Louis with cold eyes.

 

“I just--he’s your type. And I didn’t want you getting attached is all. Especially if he is--outgoing.”

 

He grits his teeth to stop himself from yelling at Zayn about his choice of words. He gets where his best mate is coming from but this is nothing short of meddling.

 

Okay so, Louis is known to have a good time and to hook up with people quite often. And yes, he does sometimes get attached, so sue him.

 

Well, no actually, he doesn’t get attached. It was just his last boyfriend, Aiden. That’s what got Zayn to start acting like he’s a delicate china doll and Liam to go into daddy-mode. Ever since Louis got his heart broken by the senior who moved away after graduation, Zayn and Liam have been keeping an eye on him and it’s gotten to the point where he’s better protected than the original Mona Lisa.

 

“Just--I didn’t want you to be disappointed. And it’d be super awkward too, if you two slept together and then you ran into him when you came around to here.”

 

Okay, fair point.

 

“Zayn, I don’t get attached to my one-night stands.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re sort of vulnerable after Aiden.”

 

Right, another fair point.

 

“But he’s a nice lad, Zayn.”

 

“I don’t doubt it. He was very polite when I spoke to him, I just didn’t think you’d need to know about him. I mean there’s other people on this floor you haven’t met.”

 

“Yes, but I’ve only woken up in his bed and had breakfast with him.”

 

“You what?”

 

“Yeah, he made pancakes. They were the best I’ve ever had.”

 

“Now I’m hungry, you little shit.”

 

“They were so light, Zayn. And just the perfect amount of--”

 

“Piss off, Tommo.”

 

Zayn grumbles and walks back to his bedroom. Louis should follow him, fall in bed next to him because he’s nowhere near as rested as he should be. But he can’t move from the sofa.

 

A loud bangs sounds from the wall behind the flat screen, that’s the one Zayn shares with Harry.

 

Louis can’t help but smile a little at the memory of bright eyes and deep dimples. Zayn calls him from the bedroom and he gets up with a deep sigh.

 

***

 

Liam has somehow heard of his encounter with Harry and he’s lecturing Louis on how he should be very careful where he goes when he drinks. And how he shouldn’t be climbing into anyone’s windows, whether it be Zayn’s flat or his own. And also, about how he could be chopped up into tiny pieces and left at the bottom of the Thames if he had ended up in someone else’s flat.

 

Louis wants to dive into the Thames just to get away from Liam.

 

“--serious, Lou. You could’ve been arrested if the person had decided to press charges.”

 

“Liam, do us a favour.”

 

“I am actually, doing you a huge favour. Teaching you not to talk to strangers and not to break into stranger’s houses and not to take food--”

 

“I’m not five.”

 

“You’re not twenty either, apparently.”

 

“Nineteen, Liam. Nineteen. Jesus, we talked about this.”

 

“This is not the time to have a meltdown about your age, Louis.”

 

“I’m not having a meltdown, I just don’t like being reminded that I’m getting older every second and dying very soon.”

 

“Sooner rather than later if you keep drinking like that and falling through strangers’ windows.”

 

“Oh god, I need a drink. Please pull out the stick that’s stuck up your arse, they need it back on the pool-table.”

 

Zayn is absolutely losing his shit on Louis’ angry retort, Liam is glaring at him with drawn eyebrows as Louis walks away from their booth in the local student pub.

 

The loo is thankfully empty when Louis gets there, he can take a deep breath and wash his face with cold water. God, Liam is so irritating and uptight some days. He’s just in the middle of drying his hands while checking his hair in the mirror when the door to the bathroom opens.

 

A second too late, he realises that he’s looking into familiar green eyes.

 

Harry is standing just inside the door, looking at him through the mirror. His feet seem to have frozen as he stands fixed on his spot with his hand still holding the door. Louis looks away first, throwing the paper towel in the bin before turning around to face the lad.

 

“Hi.”

 

Harry seems to have woken up from a trance, his eyes are wide like he’s been caught stealing a banana or something.

 

‘ _A banana? Really, Louis? That’s all you could come up with?_ ’ He’s busy chastising himself over his awful mind-commentary, while Harry blinks furiously as if to get his eyes adjusted to the light in the loo. His lips then pull into a warm smile, dimples on full-throttle and his teeth are so bright that Louis practically has to squint lest he be blinded.

 

“Hi.”

 

He had dreamt of this voice. He had had many a dream where he was with Harry and his beautiful dimples and his rough voice, but honestly his memory did no justice to Harry’s actual honey-in-strong whiskey voice.

 

So, anyway. Here they stand. In a poorly-lit bathroom of a cheap pub. Virtually strangers but not quite. Louis wants so badly to talk to Harry, about anything but he can’t even form words right now. Thankfully, Harry doesn’t have that problem.

 

“Did you find your mate?”

 

He’s not proud of the fact that it takes him a while to catch on. He’s had three beers and Harry is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. He’s allowed a five-second lag of brain-to-mouth interaction.

 

“Oh yeah, yeah. He lives right next to you, actually.”

 

“Yeah, I remember meeting him. Just thought of that after you’d left, sorry about that.”

 

“No, that’s alright. I found him, so.”

 

“Good, good.”

 

Harry moves to the sink to wash his hands, Louis just hangs around. It’s an okay place to hang around, honestly. Not too shabby.

 

Harry walks over to him when he’s done and stands there just as awkwardly. Now, Louis has been in his fair share of awkward situations in life before. But this is a whole other level, and he has no clue how to deal with this.

 

It’s a relief then that his body doesn’t really listen to his brain, and acts on its own mostly. Because he knows for a fact that his brain did not signal his legs to start moving toward Harry or his hands to go around Harry’s neck.

 

Harry seems surprised at first but he gets over the shock pretty soon, Louis feels his large hands coming to settle on his waist and pulling him in. He’s not sure who kisses who, but Harry’s lips are insistent against his and in the middle of rough breaths and tight grips, he finds himself pushed against the bathroom wall.

 

Harry is looming over him, his thigh pressing lightly against Louis’ crotch and holy mother of god, his sinful lips are moving roughly against Louis’. He can only pant and push back, as Harry bites on his lower lip and pulls on it, his tongue brushing against Louis’ purely on accident and then not so much.

 

He’s definitely light headed but that doesn’t stop him from pulling Harry closer, and pushing his hand through those curls, fucking finally. His nails rake against Harry’s scalp and the second he pulls on an errant curl, Harry’s mouth falls away from his own. His bitten lips open wide around a loud moan and his thigh is pushing against Louis’ crotch with a lot more intent.

 

Louis is two seconds away from pulling Harry into a stall when a loud cough breaks them apart. Harry pulls away from him like he’s been electrocuted and Louis is left leaning bonelessly against the wall.

 

The man who coughed goes to a stall, leaving the two of them in an awkward silence again. Harry clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. Louis wants to pulls him closer and kiss him again.

 

He’s about to say something, god knows what, when Zayn comes through the door and stops short when he sees the two of them standing opposite each other in thick silence. Louis shakes his head at him lightly to tell him to shut up.

 

“Harry, hey.”

 

Harry offers his hand to Zayn with a small smile, and Zayn shakes his hand with a smile of his own.

 

“Zayn, hi.”

 

“I see you’ve met Louis. He’s my best mate.”

 

Harry takes his hand back and pushes it into his jeans’ pocket. How does his hand even fit in that pocket? How do those jeans fit Harry? Louis needs to stop thinking.

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

“He told me about the incident, sorry about that by the way.”

 

“Oh, that’s alright. All sorted. Right, Louis?”

 

Louis would like to say that he very confidently said yes with a wink thrown in for good measure and then smiled flirtily at Harry.

 

But he’d be lying.

 

Because what he actually did is choke on thin air and then turn the colour of a fire engine, prompting both Zayn and Harry to look at him worriedly.

 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re all sorted.”

 

Zayn narrows his eyes at Louis and that usually means ‘I-see-you, you-little-shit’. Harry however flashes him a dimple before biting his lip and walking out of the loo with a wink thrown in his way.

 

 _‘That’s how you do it, Louis, you idiot. That’s how you flirt._ ’ His brain uselessly supplies as he stares longingly after Harry.

 

“Did you snog him?”

 

And then he promptly coughs like he’s a ninety-year old with weak lungs. What the fuck, why can’t he just keep a straight face? Not even lie but just keep a straight face.

 

“You did!”

 

He can only shake his head as his lungs try to leave his body through his nostrils. Zayn does not look convinced, not even one bit.

 

“I didn’t.” He wheezes but Zayn is not having any of his shit.

 

“Oh fuck off, Louis. I told you to stay away and you snog him in a loo! What’s next, you going to fuck him in the complex emergency staircase?”

 

As much as he’d like to say he is above it, he’s not. Zayn’s words echo in his mind as images of Harry pinning him to a wall in the emergency staircase of their housing complex flash behind his eyelids and he tries not to shudder. He fails miserably.

 

“My god, you’re so thirsty. Like, I see why you’d want to, he is very fit. But Lou, you’ve just gotten out of a serious relationship and he’s--”

 

“Don’t say it.”

 

“I wasn’t going to. I was just--”

 

Zayn shuts up when he sees Louis glaring at him with angry eyes. They leave the loo quietly and Zayn promises to never bring up Harry again.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part should be up soon. Is this any good?


	2. Give a little time to me or burn this out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hopefully this won't be disappointing.

He is sitting in his psychology class waiting for the professor to come in when his eyes fall on a group of students coming in late.

 

Usually, Louis would be right behind them but he had to wake up early to Skype with his mum this morning and that’s how he’s actually on time in a class for the first time in his three years at uni.

 

The group is very loud in their interactions and Louis’ just mentally cursing the fresh students for having the audacity to laugh or joke in uni. while his soul is being sucked into his books and term papers second by precious second, when he sees a mop of curls behind them.

 

It’s Harry.

 

He is staring down at his phone while walking, his shoulders hunched as he types something and just as Louis realizes what's about to happen, Harry walks into the professor’s desk and stubs his toe. Louis’ hand is in the air and his mouth open about to warn him but Harry’s already hurt with his eyes snapped shut against the pain.

 

Louis sits back down in his seat, after one last look to make sure that Harry is alright and a girl is helping him limp to a seat in the front row, he picks up his own phone and starts going through his tumblr.

 

The professor rushes in ten minutes late and Louis only looks up when the man starts talking about the midterm, afraid that his eyes will get caught on Harry again.

 

Five minutes into the lecture, he looks over to the front row and finds Harry already looking. Something heavy settles in his gut when he finds the green eyes staring at him, his hand curls around his notebook and he has to try really hard to tear his gaze away but he manages.

 

He doesn’t dare look up for the rest of the lecture, and rushes out of the room as soon as he can.

 

If he doesn’t go to that class other than the midterm for the next two weeks, it’s not because of Harry. If he only ever goes to Zayn’s flat through the back door so he doesn’t have to pass Harry’s flat, that’s also not because of Harry.

 

And if he keeps his eyes peeled and runs away as soon as he spies the familiar curly head or piercing green eyes around campus, it’s definitely not because he’s avoiding Harry.

 

***

 

Zayn corners him two weeks later while he’s hiding out in the computer lab because he saw Harry in the hallway outside with a blonde boy standing very close to him.

 

Zayn had texted Louis to come meet him at the campus coffee shop, but Harry was standing right next to the shop so Louis had asked Zayn to come to the lab instead, lying that he was looking up something important on the lab computer.

 

“Are you hiding from Harry?”

 

Louis gets up hurriedly to put his hand on Zayn’s loud, blabbering mouth.

 

“No, I’m not. Could you be a bit louder?! I don’t think they heard you in the History department across campus!”

 

“Right, is that why you have your hand on my mouth then or are you helping me not catch swine-flu?”

 

He pulls his hand away instantly and it’s a testament to their friendship and even though Zayn’s voice was all muffled under his hand, he still understood every single word.

 

“Look, I’m not hiding. I’m just--”

 

“Don’t lie to me, Lou. I know you’re avoiding him, Li and I have both noticed and we’re worried--”

 

“I’m sorry, let me get this straight. First, you two didn’t want me talking to him? And now you’re worried because I’m not talking to him? Is that about right?"

 

“Why are you avoiding him, though? Did something happen?”

 

He can do two things. He can huff and walk away, then lie awake again trying to stop thinking about Harry. Or he can tell Zayn the truth, maybe get hit in the arm but feel lighter.

 

“I snogged him, that day in the pub. And now I want to do it again.”

 

Zayn looks confused.

 

“I want to do more, though.”

 

Zayn looks a little worried and a little confused.

 

“How much more?”

 

“Date him. Ask him to marry me?”

 

Zayn facepalms so hard that the girl sitting in the third row of the otherwise empty computer lab startles with a little yelp.

 

“You want--you don’t even know him!”

 

Louis is a bit worried now, because Zayn looks mad. This means he will tell Liam. And then Liam will lecture him on dating and getting attached too early and getting his heart broken. Louis wants to take a taxi to the Thames and dive in.

 

“Lou?”

 

He might’ve started day dreaming there about a peaceful death by drowning. Zayn’s got a tight grip on his arm and is looking half as worried as Liam usually does. That’s the most worried Zayn can be. Fuck.

 

“You alright, mate?”

 

“I’m fine, Zayn. I’m all good.”

 

“Sure. So, when are you going to talk to him?”

 

“Talk to who?”

 

“Simon Cowell! Who do you think?”

 

“Uh--”

 

“Harry, you twat!”

 

“Oh.”

 

“You are going to talk to him, right?”

 

“But you said I should stay away--”

 

“I did tell you stay away, but then you went and made out with him. And now you want to have his babies, so I think you should at least talk to him first.”

 

“I don’t want to hav--”

 

“Oh please, look at your face in the mirror. Your eyes lit up like London Bridge on the Queen’s Jubilee, when I said you wanted his babies.”

 

He flushes at Zayn’s words, mostly because he knows Zayn’s right.

 

“Let’s go to the coffee shop, I need tea. And next time you want to ‘not hide from someone’ don’t go to the one place you’ve never gone since uni. started.”

 

Zayn turns around with a smirk on his face and Louis would totally shut him up with his supreme insulting skills, but he’s too busy thinking how his and Harry’s kids would look like.

 

***

 

It’s been four days since Zayn told him to go find Harry and talk to him. Liam has already lectured him twice about how he should go slow, and Louis has already told him twice that he’s not going at all.

 

He’s given up on Harry entirely.

 

It’s mainly because Harry is avoiding him. The day after his and Zayn’s talk, Louis had seen him in the corridor outside his criminology class and he had smiled at him, but before he could cross the hallway and go over to talk to him, Harry had turned around and walked away.

 

Louis had convinced himself that Harry hadn’t seen him.

 

Then, it happened again the next day. This time, Louis’ sure that Harry saw him. Louis’ hand was raised up in a wave while he was walking toward Harry but the boy had just stolen his eyes away and left.

 

Louis was left standing in a crowded cafe, with his hand raised next to his head and a painful tug in his chest. So the next time he wouldn’t smile or wave, Louis had told himself. But he hadn’t been ready for what he was faced with when he next saw Harry.

 

He was walking toward the psychology class, with his Styrofoam cup of tea in one hand and his phone in the other. He’d been so engrossed in rushing toward the room and making it to the lecture in time that he had hardly noticed the two figures down the hallway just outside the classroom door.

 

It was impossible not to see, though.

 

It was impossible not to see Harry clinging to a taller man, with his arms thrown around the man’s body and their limbs locked like they’d be blown away by a tornado or something if there was even an inch more space between them.

 

His steps had faltered as he’d recognized Harry and then their eyes had met over the man’s shoulders. Harry looked surprised to see him, and Louis’ emotions were so far-spread between shock and hurt, that he couldn’t even stand there a second longer.

 

With his head bowed, he had walked into the class and proceeded to sit in the last row with his phone and tea still clutched in his hand.

 

Harry had come in to the class shortly after him, Louis had heard his feet resounding as he walked up the steps toward the back of the classroom but stopped half-way, but even then Louis had kept his eyes on the table in front of him as his hands trembled around his phone.

 

He hadn’t been able to look up at all during the class. Every time he tried to close his eyes the image of Harry wrapped around that man flooded his mind and he had to force himself to breathe properly.

 

It’s not that Louis didn’t see the problem in this, he did. Harry was pretty much a stranger, he didn’t know the lad at all. Had only ever met him twice, and yet he was absolutely taken with him. Infatuated is the word Liam had used, but Louis knows it’s more than just mindless infatuation.

 

He had seen Harry around campus many times, interacting with people and he’d seen him in their psychology class. He knew that Harry was very polite, knowledgeable but not arrogant and Louis knew that he was kind.

 

Not everyone cooks a stranger breakfast and gets them headache pills after finding them in their bed.

 

But he also knew that these few times from being around Harry didn’t mean that he knew the boy. And for the first time in his life, Louis actually felt more than attraction and mild affection toward someone.

 

He hasn’t slept properly since that morning he woke up next to Harry. Hasn’t had a single night when he didn’t dream of waking up next to Harry everyday. Liam can call it infatuation all he wants, but Louis knows it’s more.

 

So, yeah. He is alright.

 

Harry is dating someone else and Louis is alright with it.

 

“Bullshit.”

 

Zayn looks like he’s done with everything. Then again, that’s his usual face.

 

“No really, I’m over him. If you want I can explain how this happened--”

 

“Ask me if I give a motherfuck.”

 

“--but you can--okay fair enough.”

 

“Look, take this. I got you his number, so just take it. Do whatever you want with it.”

 

Louis takes a second to gawk at the piece of paper Zayn is thrusting in his face, then he snatches it and thinks who even writes numbers on paper anymore.

 

“I’m not going to call him.”

 

“Do whatever you want with it.”

 

“How did you even get it?”

 

Holy shit.

 

Zayn’s right eye twitches and his cheeks are definitely redder than they were a moment ago. Louis turns his head subtly to check his ears and shit, Zayn’s ears are burning. Oh, glorious blackmail material.

 

“Got it from his mate, he’s in my music class.”

 

“What mate is that?”

 

Zayn rolls his eyes at him, looking unimpressed with his antics but Louis caught that blush and he is going to milk this situation till there’s no more milk left.

 

“Niall. We talk sometimes.”

 

“Oh you do, do you?”

 

Zayn turns around and walks away toward the kitchen, leaving Louis scrambling behind him. He runs and catches up to him though and sits down on the counter with his legs dangling next to Zayn who’s making pasta on the burner.

 

“Yes, why do you look like a deranged monkey with a banana?”

 

“Oh I don’t know, just thought I saw something.”

 

“What?”

 

“Now I might be wrong and correct me if I am, but I think I saw you blushing like a teenager with a crush on senpai when you talked about this Niall.”

 

Zayn is standing very still - like in those animal documentaries, where the predator is frozen in place just before attacking the prey - with his hand around the spatula as he stares down at the pot of pasta. Louis takes this time to jump off the shelf and run back into the lobby.

 

***

 

It’s been 48 hours since Zayn gave him Harry’s number and he hasn’t used it yet. His phone is on silent and under his mattress because he knows he isn’t very good at resisting temptation and Harry is literally the embodiment of everything Louis’ ever craved.

 

So yeah, his phone is hidden under his mattress and he misses a few calls from his mum which means Zayn rushes to his flat at one in the morning in his pajamas, looking like he’s had a heart attack.

 

When Louis answers with his sleepy eyes and all his limbs intact, Zayn pulls him into a hug. He says Louis’ mum had called him worried that Louis was hurt or in an accident and when Zayn couldn’t reach him either, he had rushed over. Of course, his mum got a search party started.

 

Liam comes up after parking the car and he physically inspects him for injuries. When asked to explain why he’s not answering his phone, he leads them into his bedroom and pulls the phone out from under the mattress.

 

When he tells them why his phone was there in the first place, Liam looks like he wants to punch him and Zayn actually does. He calls his mum and tells her he’s alright, not kidnapped or killed. And they all fall asleep on Louis’ tiny bed, cramped and sore when they wake up.

 

As much as he wants to leave his phone under the mattress the next day, Zayn glares at him so hard that he can feel his phone heating up in his palm and he just silently puts it in his pocket. Thankfully, both Liam and Zayn don’t prod him anymore on the Harry business and leave him alone with his thoughts.

 

Maybe that’s why the next day, he actually texts Harry.

 

It happens when they’re in psychology class, well he’s inside the class and Harry is walking in - lost in his phone, again. So Louis digs out his phone and types a text and sends it to the number he had saved in his phone fifteen minutes after Zayn had given it to him three days ago.

 

Don’t walk into the table again. ;) - L

 

Harry looks up startled from his phone the second Louis’ phone said the text was delivered. His eyes meet Louis’ and even from here he can see them widening in shock. And coincidentally, Harry was two steps away from walking into the table again so crisis averted.

 

Harry is staring at him from the front of the class, and Louis can’t look away. Then his phone rings and he looks down in his lap to find a text from Harry.

 

Thanks. Xx - H

 

He can feel his cheeks burning up and he wants to look up so bad but he keeps his eyes fixed on his phone as he types a reply.

 

No problem. xx - L

 

The professor walks in before he can see Harry’s reaction as the boy walks to take a seat in the front. Louis may have been smiling a lunatic the rest of the class.

 

He keeps checking his phone the whole day after getting out of class but nothing. And okay, he’s one of those people that will keep checking their phone even though they know no one has called or texted. And yes, he is hesitant to text first - almost never does it except when he wants to stop cute boys from walking into furniture.

 

So, he waits. For an entire day, glued to his phone. Zayn threatens to take it away if Louis doesn’t pay attention to the game, and he would usually be dead serious about FIFA but right now he’s too worried about the boy next door not texting him.

 

Right before going to sleep, he gives in. Just as he’s lying in bed waiting to go under, he pulls his phone out from under his pillow and opens the messages.

 

Good night. - L

 

Taking a deep breath he presses send and hides the phone under his pillow. Even though he’s not expecting a reply at two in the morning, his phone rings anyway. And Louis almost falls off the bed in his hurry to get to it.

 

Good night, Louis. Xx - H

 

He stares at the screen till he’s almost blind from the brightness in the dark room. Eventually, he does give up and fall asleep. And it’s the most peaceful sleep he’s had in over a month.

 

He does still dream about adorable boys in flower crowns and hipster clothes.

 

***

 

It changes after that night. They start texting regularly after that, Harry usually sends him silly knock knock jokes or random facts about bananas that make him laugh anyway, as if he’s being told a joke by the best stand-up comedian ever. In return, he types up anything funny he can come up with and sends it before he can change his mind.

 

Sometimes they do it while sitting in the psychology class and Louis will send his best jokes just to see Harry laughing out loud in the middle of the class with his seal-bark and then trying to control it by slapping his hand over his mouth. And then he’ll turn around and glare at Louis.

 

But Harry dishes it as good as he gets. Just last class, he had sent Louis a stupid knock knock joke. A knock knock joke. They are both adults attending uni. But Louis couldn’t say no to Harry if he asked for a life-size pink, fluffy unicorn so of course he indulges him.

 

Knock knock - H

 

Who’s there? - L

 

Lil ole lady - H

 

Lil ole lady who? - L

 

I didn’t know you could yodel. - H

 

He is so done. He’s shaking his head while reading the response and he is so fucking done with this dork. His head just goes down to hit heavily on his desk, and he can hear Harry snickering at him two rows ahead. But Louis pulls his head up and smiles at Harry anyway.

 

They still haven’t met properly or sat next to each other in class. Louis wants to talk to Harry so badly, but he feels like he might be pushing Harry so he stays quiet and just texts him about everything silly.

 

It’s gotten to the point where Zayn has threatened to throw his phone into oncoming traffic, and Louis would probably chase after it. That should be a warning sign but he doesn’t care.

 

Sometime in the middle of idiotic questions that make no sense and silly jokes, they’ve started talking about each other. Louis has admitted more things to Harry in five days than he has to any of his friends or his family in a long time. And Harry responds in kind, they can probably hack each other’s bank accounts by now with all the things they’ve shared.

 

Louis doesn’t hesitate in teasing at all now, like he did in the first few days. And Harry gives as good as he gets, Louis finds out that he is rather cheeky if a bit polite as Louis had first pegged him.

 

On a lazy Sunday night, he’s over at Zayn’s and they’re trying to watch The Dark Knight but Liam keeps asking them to rewind over and over so he can watch every scene twice. Louis is so fucking done right now, Zayn seems like he doesn’t care.

 

Louis goes to get another beer out of the fridge when his phone vibrates against his thigh and he takes it out hurriedly hoping it’s a text from Harry.

 

‘Niall just keeps going out to throw one can at a time. I think he’s trying to run into Zayn.’ - H

 

He snorts loudly when he reads the text and then laughs as he walks out into the lobby. Zayn looks up at him curiously while Liam is still busy cataloguing every single dialogue and movement in the film.

 

‘That is hilarious! Let me send Zayn out, this will be brilliant.’ - L

 

He sits down casually next to Zayn and elbows him.

 

“Might want to take out the garbage, it’s too full.”

 

Zayn just grunts noncommittally before settling down against Louis. Shit.

 

“Do you want fruit flies like last time? Then it’ll take ages before we can get them out.”

 

That gets Zayn’s attention and he gets up while mumbling curses at him. Louis stays right where he is and watches Zayn walking out the main door with two garbage bags. He stays seated on the sofa and tells Harry the plan is a go. Liam is still sweetly oblivious.

 

Ten seconds later, he hears a loud bark of laughter through the common wall and then Zayn rushes back in through the door with a face matching the salsa on the table in front of Louis.

 

He looks furious and Louis can’t stop the laughter that’s bubbling through his chest. He can hear Harry still laughing next door and then he’s on the floor just losing it.

 

“You fucking twat! Both of you, co-ordinating with your boyfriend through texts when he’s right fucking there!”

 

That makes him stop. He can’t hear Harry anymore, either.

 

Then, his phone rings and he snatches it from the sofa before Zayn can get it.

 

‘Niall is so red, he looks like he’s going into cardiac arrest. I should check on him.’ - H

 

He’s laughing again and he can hear Harry through the wall and godammnit it is glorious. Zayn is seething as he walks to his bedroom and slams his door behind him. That seems to tear Liam from his precious film finally and he looks around dumbfounded.

 

“What happened?”

 

Louis gets up from the floor and plops down on the sofa. The salsa tastes great with his nachos.

 

“Nothing.”

 

Liam shrugs and goes back to his film and Louis goes to tell Zayn he’s sorry. He’s really not, but you have to lie for the sake of friendship sometimes and Louis values his mates more than anything else.

 

***

 

Things have been pretty great recently. They’ve talked about everything one could possibly talk about in one week. And Louis feels like his face is going to crack any second from the amount of laughing he’s been doing.

 

Harry texted him this morning telling him how he had to buy Niall a full English breakfast this morning just to get him to forgive Harry for their prank last night. Louis is reading through the text again and smiling to himself when he walks into the campus coffee shop and spots Harry.

 

He almost turns around and walks back but then he sees the tall man Harry had been clinging to, seated next to him on the table. Harry still hasn’t seen him and Louis can’t even move from the spot. He’s frozen.

 

The man pulls Harry’s hand over the table and Harry doesn’t resist. Louis wants to unsee this, he wants to walk away and erase this from his memory. Go back to being blindly optimistic and lost in his oblivion.

 

But then Harry does look up and spot him. And finally Louis’ feet start moving and he walks away. He can hear Harry yelling his name but he doesn’t stop walking and soon enough he’s lost in the thrum of students walking toward the library.

 

Louis goes straight home, skipping his class that afternoon. He pops in Grease and breaks open the new box of mint and chocolate chip ice cream in his freezer.

 

 _Fuck Harry_ , he thinks. _Fuck Harry and fuck his tall, dark boyfriend. And fuck his knock knock jokes and his stupid dimples. And his fucking greener-than-grass eyes. Just fuck him._

But because he’s a masochist, he keeps his phone on the coffee table in front of him and sees every single text Harry has sent him without actually opening them.

 

‘Where are you?’ - H

 

‘I want to see you. Please.’ - H

 

‘Louis, please. Just answer me.’ - H

 

‘Louis, it’s not how it looks. I swear.’ - H

 

‘Lou, please.’ - H

 

That one almost gets him but he is nothing if not a stubborn son-of-a-bitch, so he stays put with his carton of ice cream and his two-liter bottle of chocolate milk.

 

The film is over and Louis doesn’t feel like going to bed so he finds his DVD of Sherlock and pops that in, cradling his now half-molten ice cream carton. Harry hasn’t stopped texted him.

 

‘I can explain, will you please let me? - H

 

‘Are you at Zayn’s?’ - H

 

‘I’m coming over.’ - H

 

‘Goddamnit Louis, just answer me once. Are you okay?’ - H

 

And for some reason, this situation reminds him of that conversation he had had with Zayn two months ago about Harry. Back then, he had defended Harry without even knowing him but right now he’s not sure if he’d be able to say those things again.

 

Harry is persistent though, he doesn’t seem fazed by Louis’ lack of response.

 

‘Would you just listen? Once?’ - H

 

‘Zayn says you’re home, not feeling well.’ - H

 

‘Just tell me you’re okay. That’s all.’ - H

 

He wants to, so bad. And he almost does, picks up the phone and tells him he’s alright. But he knows he’d never stop there. Hell, he’s so far gone on this boy that he’d probably run all the way to his flat if Harry just asked once.

 

So, self-preservation makes him ignore the sharp pain in his chest. He keeps his eyes fixed on the screen and does not think about the lack of messages in the next fifteen minutes. Then, his phone rings twice. Nothing after that.

 

‘I’m sorry, Lou.’ - H

 

‘Good night. Xx’ - H

 

He almost gets dressed and goes to Harry’s place. But he stops himself and instead goes to bed. He doesn’t sleep at all that night, not even a minute.

 

Or the next night or the one after that.

 

He’s got dark circles under his eyes now, and his blood is probably 89% coffee and tea by now. Liam keeps sitting him down and trying to talk to him. He keeps walking out on Liam. It’s been three days of this routine and Louis is almost used to it like a schedule.

 

Zayn is not as tolerating. He physically holds Louis down on the sofa and asks him what the fuck is wrong with him.

 

“Nothing, I’m alright.”

 

“Like fuck you are, have you even looked in the mirror lately? You look like the before model from those skin care ads.”

 

“Are you quite finished?”

 

“No, I’m not actually. Interesting thing happened today, I ran into Niall in uni.--”

 

“I’m very happy for you and your dick, can you please let me go now?”

 

“Let me finish, you arse! Niall told me Harry hasn’t slept in three days or eaten properly and he keeps staring at blank walls like he’s contemplating the meaning of life. So you tell me, what the fuck happened between you two?”

 

He’s stunned into silence because what. Harry hasn’t been sleeping and eating since Louis and he fell out. What?

 

He didn’t think he was that important to Harry. Honestly, he’s been doubting if he even meant anything at all to him. After all, he does have tons of friends and a boyfriend so what can Louis offer him that none of those people can’t? Nothing, that’s what.

 

He had reached to the conclusion that he was quite replaceable.

 

But right now, he’s left staring at Zayn with wide eyes as he processes what he’s just been told.

 

“Louis? Did I break you? Li, I think I broke him.”

 

Liam comes to stand over him and waves his hand in front of his eyes and all of a sudden Louis’ eyes focus on him. His thoughts are all scattered in his head still, but they’re coming together slowly.

 

“Lou, you okay?”

 

He only nods his head while staring at the ceiling. Some things make a bit of sense now.

 

“Nod once if you can hear me.”

 

He huffs and rolls his eyes at Liam.

 

“I haven’t had a concussion, Liam. I can hear you just fine, you wanker!”

 

“Back to his old self, Zayn. He’s alright.”

 

They both sigh in relief and plop down on the sofa on either side of him. Louis can only stare at the ceiling as the true extent of his feelings becomes clear.

 

“I’m in love with him.”

 

Zayn and Liam are both standing over him again in a flash and he can’t help but grin up at them. This is it, this is what he’s been struggling with for so long. And finally, he’s figured it out.

 

“What?”

 

They both ask in unison and Louis giggles - giggles like a high-schooler with a crush.

 

“I’m in love with Harry.”

 

He’s only just said the words when he hears a loud bang from next door and then a very colorful curse in a loud voice with a thick irish accent. Zayn flushes instantly and that’s how Louis knows that that was Niall.

 

He gets up from the sofa and rushes out of the flat to knock on the door beside Zayn’s. When no one answers it in 0.2 seconds, he knocks again and looks down in panic. He had rushed out so fast that he’s standing in front of Harry’s door barefoot and with the remote still in his hand.

 

Harry yanks the door open and is standing there with his mouth hanging open. Louis notices the pale colour of his skin and how tired his eyes look, and he almost pulls Harry to himself.

 

“Hi.”

 

Harry is still staring at him in shock and hasn’t found his words. Louis pushes the nervousness down and thinks of something clever to say. Something that’ll lighten the mood.

 

“I’m in love with you.”

 

_Fucking idiot._

 

His eyes snap shut the moment he realizes what he’s said, too afraid to check Harry’s reaction. He can hear Zayn facepalming behind his closed door and Liam’s wince. Niall is standing inside Harry’s flat and he shakes his head almost pityingly at Louis.

 

So all in all, he is done.

 

Both his mates are disappointed, Niall is disappointed and he himself is disappointed. Harry is still silent. Louis takes a deep breath and finally gathers the courage to look at Harry.

 

“I’m in love with you, too.”

 

What the--

 

He doesn’t even get to finish that thought before Harry is launching into his arms and holding him so close that Louis can’t even tell where he finishes and Harry starts. He’s grinning like a moron as he holds Harry just as tight, breathing in his scent and almost toppling over with how tight they’re holding each other.

 

When he opens his eyes and lets go a little, Harry leans down and brushes his lips against Louis’. It’s gentle and soft to begin with, just feather-light touches but just as abruptly it started, Harry’s hands are around his waist and pulling him close while his tongue is pushing into Louis’ mouth and he moans like he hasn’t been touched in years.

 

He can hear Zayn and Niall both coughing in the background, Liam is probably molten on the floor by now but he doesn’t care. Harry has picked him up and is walking them into his bedroom while Louis holds on tight and marks bruises on his neck. His lips are tracing Harry’s tattoos as he whispers the question that’s been on his mind for so long.

 

“Why were you avoiding me?”

 

“You were avoiding me first, I saw you running into the computer lab when I was with Niall. And I decided that I’d ignore you too.”

 

“Okay, fair enough. Never do it again.”

 

“I won't if you won’t.”

 

He can’t even breathe properly as his back hits the bed, Harry is on him within seconds and Louis is absolutely gone. His hips are thrusting up against Harry in a sloppy rhythm and his hands are making quick work of ripping off their clothes.

 

“Are you dating anyone else?”

 

“No, I swear I’m not. That guy was my mate.”

 

“Okay. So, you’re not with him?”

 

“No, I was just comforting him. He recently broke up with his boyfriend.”

 

Louis nods while pulling his shirt over his head, Harry is peeling his track pants off standing next to the bed while they’re having this super-important conversation.

 

“Okay, that’s good. Because I love you and I want you to be with me. Only me.”

 

“Yes, please yes. God, I love you.”

 

Harry’s leaning over him and as he settles between Louis’ spread legs and his heated skin touches Harry’s, he groans so loud he’s sure Zayn and Liam can hear next door but he couldn't care less right now. Harry nibbles on Louis’ lower lip before pulling on it and bringing his hips to grind down on Louis’, and after that it’s just a hazy blur of thrusts and moans and wet kisses.

 

Harry is absolutely gorgeous, his many tattoos standing in stark difference against his pale skin and Louis can’t stop telling him how beautiful he is.

 

“God, Louis, I’ve wanted you since that day I woke up next to you in my bed. Is that creepy?”

 

“Well, I’m equally as creepy then ‘cuz I wanted to kiss you five seconds after I woke up.”

 

Harry leans down to bite at his neck, his teeth pulling on tender skin before his lips lick on the spot and leave a gentle kiss. Louis is writhing underneath him, his hips are thrusting up against Harry’s, and his back is arching off the bed with every thrust.

 

He is so close, so so close. Harry’s eyes are piercing into his not unlike that first day and he’s just as mesmerized.

 

“I want to wake up next to you. Sorry, if that’s too much but I just--”

 

Harry takes his hand and hold his wrist over his head, as he leans down and whispers,

 

“I want to fall asleep and wake up next to you everyday. Please?”

 

God, he is so gone on this boy. His fingers unwrap from around Harry’s bicep and he pushes them through his messy hair. He pulls on a few curls and Harry’s eyes slip closed as he thrusts once, twice and then comes between them.

 

His hips stutter for a second but after he recovers, he starts moving again and Louis can feel Harry’s come against his own cock and it’s just that thought that makes him scream Harry’s name and come undone under him.

 

Harry rolls off of him and pulls his shirt off the floor to wipe the mess off his stomach. Louis happily curls up around him when Harry pulls him into his chest. They’re both breathing heavily, the shared warmth between them is almost too much but Louis doesn’t pull back.

 

Harry kisses him softly on the temple and whispers, ‘I love you, Lou.’ He smiles against Harry’s arm under his head and kisses his inner arm.

 

Maybe it’s the exhaustion from the strenuous activities they’ve just partaken in. Or maybe it’s the fact that neither of them has slept in three days, but they fall asleep curled up in each other. Front door still unlocked.

 

***

 

Louis wakes up to find Harry looking at him just like when he’d first woken up in this bed. He does still get startled to find bright eyes staring at him.

 

“You know Harold, as much as I love you, could you maybe not give me a heart attack every time I wake up in this bed?”

 

Harry just smiles at him, a slow smile that gets bigger and bigger till Louis can’t even look at him anymore and has to pull him in and kiss it off. Harry just smiles against his lips.

 

This is the happiest he’s been in years, and it’s all thanks to Zayn. If Louis hadn’t tried to jump into his flat, he’d never have met Harry.

 

Then, brushing his lips lazily against Harry’s, he gets an idea.

 

“How would you like to ambush Zayn and Niall into a real date?”

 

Harry looks so happy at the idea that Louis thinks _G_ _od, I’d do stupid things for you every second I’m breathing just to see you happy.’_

 

And when he says as much, Harry rolls over him and grinds his hips against Louis' again.

 

“Yes! Let’s do it!”

 

Louis’ lost in Harry’s lips and his eyes and his touches but he still hears it when a loud knock sounds on the bedroom wall and Niall yells,

 

“We can feckin' hear ya, ye twats!”

 

Harry does his seal-bark laughter, his eyes open wide with literally disney-twinkles in them, and his face is lit up better than the Christmas Tree in London and Louis can’t help but laugh at Niall.

 

He also can’t help but hide his face in Harry’s chest and whisper, “I’m so fucking gone on you. Move in with me.”

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright?


End file.
